silentwriter180's Blog

Although I don't have any children of my own, Mothers Day has always been very special to me, on both ends of the spectrum. Of course, there is my mother. A wonderful woman who rescued and adopted me when I was very young, taking me to the  beautiful state of Hawaii, where she grew up. She gave me a very special life on a farm in the valleys of Maui. An incredible place to spend my childhood. She gave me her love and support voluntarily, from her heart. Something I will always be extremely grateful for. I have always wanted to find a way to pay her back for that, and was saddened by the fact that I was unable to give her grandchildren, as I was unable to bear children of my own.  But, the one thing I could do was help other children as she did me. But, instead of adopting them, I did it in another way. I became a "surrogate" mom, for lack of a better term. No, I did not  carry children for other women, as the term suggests, but I took these children under my wing, and gave them my heart. I opened my door, my home, a place that they could come to when they couldn't go home, a refuge. I gave them my ears when they needed someone to talk to. I gave them a place to sleep when things were too rough at home. I gave them my kitchen table when they needed a quite place to do their homework, and sometimes even a meal when they were hungry. I gave them use of my couch and television when they just wanted to come over and hang out. I gave them advice when they didn't know how to go about things.  I gave them a smile and a hug when they needed some love.

I do love these kids as though they were my own. They made me feel whole. I never really looked at it as though I was a parent, until one of them gave me roses and a Mothers Day card, thanking me for my love and friendship. Even one of the mothers came to me and told me that I was a second mother and that she was very happy that her son had me in his life. That's when I realized that what I was doing was instrumental in these kids lives. To this day, I have eight wonderful children and three beautiful grandchildren. And I couldn't be prouder to call these kids my children. They are definitely a part of my life, my family, and I love them all dearly as though I've brought them into this world.

One thing I remember about May 1st when I was growing up is that it was always eventful at all the schools. Full of song and dance and good feelings amongst everyone around. And for us at school, it was a sure sign that summer was right around the corner.

The elementary school I went to was pretty big with at least 100-150 kids in each of the five grades. Each grade performed one or two dances on the large lawn in the middle of the school. The parents helped with the costumes and the teachers taught us the dances. We never knew just what the other classes were doing until their performance on May Day.

Some of the parents who wanted to get involved helped us in making our costumes and leis, which were a big part of the festivities. Then, if they could, they would come attend the show.

We had plumeria trees in our yard. The plumeria is the most popular and a available flower for making leis. It is a beautiful 5-petal flower with a somewhat hollow stem that makes it easy to stick a needle through. The aroma is like a soft perfume, not too strong. We would make as many leis as we could with what we had at home and bring them to share with the others.

I am sad to say that I don't remember what we did in the intermediate or high schools for May Day. If the celebrations were just as big, or if the performances were smaller. My mind is blank. It hurts to both remember these things. I feel as though I've lost a part of my life. More of my soul, of who I am.

  Last night, my husband and I were reflecting on our recent dive fatalities here in the Monterey area. He was commenting that we don't hear much about accidents or fatalities in other points of interest, such as skiing or snowboarding, unless its someone well known. I pointed out that if we lived up closer to the slopes, we probably would, in the local news, but that kind of stuff just doesn't make National news. The reason we here so much about the diving, is #1, we live in a dive community, and # 2, we're in that business, and I belong to most of the diving forums.  Well, after that discussion, I was looking through Yahoo news this morning as I normally do, and what do I find? That our latest fatality is in Yahoo's trending news, through ABC.  Amazing. We still don't know what happened or just who it was, all we know is that we lost two divers in one of our most pristine dive sites, Point Lobos. When we lose a diver here, it hits us all pretty hard as  we are a tight knit community. This time we lost two divers, partners. 

I will update this as I find out more about the situation.

When I first came to this site, I was introduced by a friend who knew that I was hurting. My heart & soul were in so much pain that he could see it with his own two eyes, just by looking into mine. He thought this would be a great place for me to be, as it's full of people with similar issues and others who are a great mound of support. I was skeptical, until another friend who was already here invited me to join. So here I am.  Since I've been here, I've met some wonderful people, all who have been very supportive. It's just what I've needed. And on top of that, I've made some lifelong friends.

My original choice for a name was silentwriter, but I was told that it wasn't available. So, I'm assuming that someone is already here by that name. So, I chose rubberqueen, which describes me in my work, being that I manufacture custom wetsuits & drysuits for scuba divers. But, all this time, it  just didn't really feel right, my true name in everything else I do is silentwriter. So, a friend of mine suggested that I added the 180.

When people ask about what I write, I always tell them about my autobiography that I wont publish, being that it's just for my healing; the childrens book that I'm writing and would love to someday publish; my songs, my poems; and when I get frustrated with writers block, I "turn a 180, and write erotic stories".  My friend just loves that last little phrase and suggested that I add the 180 to my name, hence 'silentwriter180'. 

I just want to thank all of you for your love & support. It means the world to me. I know I will get through these hard times. But as I've said in my latest featured story, I tend to drift when I am hurting, and I am sorry for that. I know I shouldn't, but those who know me know that it's hard for me to burden someone else with my pain. Although, since I've been here, I've been able to share some of my stories. It's been difficult, but helpful. And, I will continue to share as I can.

So, please, all I ask is that you don't give up on me.  I need you. I thank you.

xoxoxo
Silentwriter 180  aka Rubberqueen

The last few weeks have been extremely difficult for me, as I sit here in my office, trying to recollect myself, since my large seizure on July 25th. I have been struggling hard with my short time memories, and it's driving me crazy, especially here at work.  I have been trying to make a point of writing things down, but what hurts the most is not remembering faces as they come in to pick up their repairs a week after dropping them off. Or I'll get a phone call from someone who I just spoke with a couple of days ago, and I'll need to ask them to repeat everything that we had just gone over during our first phone calls. 

I feel like I am losing myself, as my sharpness disappears. I used to be able to remember what these people looked like while making their patterns shortly after measuring them, and now.....the picture is gone. I just made a pattern this morning for a guy I just measured two days ago, I look at his chart, I don't recognize his name, his body type, the colors that he picked...who is this guy? 

With this, I am frustrated, I am frightened, I am saddened, I am angry.  My heart hurts.

I just want to close my office door, crawl under my desk, and hide from the world. 

Where am I? Why is this happening to me? I feel like I'm losing my life....again.

Lurch the Scientist on Morphine

This is so funny, I just had to share it.  So, a couple of weeks ago, I got a phone call from a guy asking about a custom wetsuit. Now, this was no ordinary phone call, but one full of yakety yak yak!  Before I could answer his questions, he'd start telling me these stories about his history. Such as being shot six times while serving in Vietnam, and being one of the first scientific divers, diving down to 600 feet, and then he'd go off into a tangent about politics and such.  So, this phone call that would have taken about 15 minutes with a normal customer actually took almost an hour (maybe more, I don't remember)

So, yesterday, he comes in to get measured. He's about 6'2, walking on a cane. And again, on his tangents.  I tried to be patient with him as he just kept on going while I was measuring him. He went on, boasting about his days of fighting, his days of diving, what he used to wear, where he'd go, etc.  Then he tells me that he hasn't dove in over 30 years, and he wants to get back into it. When I suggested he take a refresher course, he responds with, "Oh, I don't need to do that, I'm an instructor."  Who am I to argue.  Then he has these pain spasms, right in front of me. I thought the guy was going to fall over on me!!  I told him to go sit down. "No hurry," I said. 

He went to sit down, and his female friend he brought along with him (must have been in her 80's) starts asking me about my religious beliefs.  I very politely said that I don't speak religion or politics with anyone, that it was a personal thing.  She just smiled at me, raised her hand and said, "Relationships. That's what it's all about, relationships, and that's all I'm going to say."  She folded her arms in front of her and just about fell asleep in front of me leaning on my drafting table. 

So he came back to the office to write me a check for the deposit, and goes off in a tangent once more.  I just sat here for the next hour listening to this guy preach about his past and his days as a scientific diver and a fighter, along with his spasms of pain.  OMG!!!

She later looked at her watch, and saw that I'm supposed to close at five, it's now ten after, so she coaxes him to go. He gets one foot out the door, and comes back with something else. There was no finishing!! Finally, they left, and I hung out for a little while before I left, hoping they'd be gone as I left, but know they were sitting there in the car, eating. Luckily, they just waved goodbye. And I left.

So, I'm sitting at the bar with a friend, feeling so exhausted and drained. My friend who had come in after me could see that and he left me alone for a few minutes to regain myself. Then he very quietly and jokingly asked if I wanted a shot.  I could see he was smiling.  I looked at him seriously and said, "I could really use one!" and his smile became a serious look, as he has never heard me reply that way.  Mind you, I don't drink at all. When I go to the bar, I'm on cola.  These people have never seen me drink alcohol...AT ALL!!  So, the bartender looked at me, smiling, asking what I wanted. And I told him, I would really love one of these drinks I had in Mexico called the Rumba. It was a very sweet, fresh fruit drink, with a bit of rum in it.  So, the bartender turns around, looks over his alcohol collection, and starts making this drink. Tastes it, and sets it in front of me, and tells me to let him know what I think.  Oh, man, I was in heaven!!! My friend sitting next to me just about fainted!!!

In the meantime, my husband arrives at the office to park the truck and come down to join me. He arrived there at six, I didn't see him until seven. Guess who he was with.  Yep, that guy was still in the parking lot, eating a bag of fresh cherries. And as Jeff gets out of the truck, this guy is telling him how much he admires all the rust on the truck!!  Then he goes off, on a tangent, telling Jeff the stuff that he was telling me!!  So, when Jeff gets to the bar, he walks in announcing that he had just spent the hour with "Lurch the Scientist". It took me a few seconds until I realized just who he was talking about. And we just busted up laughing. And my friend who was sitting on the other side of Jeff now, pointed to me and what I was drinking, and said, "Look, he drove your wife to drink!!"  Yeah, I'll say Jeff was just a little shocked!!  lol

The rest of the evening was conversation about this guy and his stories and his new nickname "Lurch the Scientist on Morphine"

Yikes!!  I'll be seeing him in about six weeks when he comes in to try on his suit!!  Be ready to make me another Rumba, Charles!!

First of all, and most importantly, may I say Happy Fathers Day to all of you. Whether you have children or not, in some way, each one of you is a fatherly figure to someone along the way, whether it be a child of your own, a friends child, a niece, a nephew, or even a pet, for that matter. So, I always wish everyone a Happy Fathers Day.  My husband and I don't have children, but we have our pets, and we have who we call our surrogate children. Those kids who we helped grow throughout their lives when they needed a little extra TLC. They are most precious to us, and always will be. 

Personally, I have a total of seven fathers, but none who I can truly call "Dad", except for my father in law, as he's the only one who has truly taken me under his wings and loved me like his own daughter.  I couldn't be more grateful to him for the love and admiration he has shared with me through the last 24 years of my marriage to his son.  He will always be Dad.  

From my biological side, I have three fathers. There's my biological father, for whom all I have is a name. I know nothing more about him.  While my mother was in the hospital, a friend of hers was having a child as well. We were born just a day apart, and we always considered each other sisters. Her father was nice enough to put his name on my birth certificate, to show that I had a father. So, to me, he will always be my first father.   Then there was the man that my mother had married years later. He was a bit whacked out, and their relationship was too hard to explain. I could never get close to him.

On my adopted side, I have the father I met when I was three, and moved to Hawaii with. He and I just recently regained touch, and are frequently on the phone.  Then there is the father I grew up with through my adolescence and young teens. He is the father of the older two of my three sisters.  There were times in which we were close, and times in which I didn't even know him. He drank a lot, which saddened and frightened me.  Then, there is the man that Mom is married to now. The father of my youngest sister. He's a good man, and it pleases me to finally see Mom with someone who is stable.

I have never been able to call any of these people Dad, as it just didn't feel right. Not to my heart. At least not until I met my husband's dad. He greeted me with open arms and love, and didn't ever see me as a burden. He was happy to see me in the family and has always loved me as his own. And that means a lot to me. More than I will ever be able to tell him. He is a true Dad.

So, to all the true Dad's out there, I wish a Happy Fathers' Day. You are all loved & appreciated!

When I first met David, I was new to the area, and not very open about myself or where I had been, who I was or how I was feeling. As we became friends and got to know each other better, I somehow felt as though I could open up to him. He was very kind, loving, compassionate and willing to open his heart to mine. Neither of us were ready for a full on relationship and we knew it, but we knew that we needed each  other, that we couldn't make it in life without each other. We were very much a part of each other. Our kindred spirits were one in the same.

We met as we were working at the wax museum. It was my first paying job when I moved here to Monterey. The woman I worked with in theater was offered the job. She was too busy with other projects, so she introduced me to the owners and gave me a wonderful reference. I had worked in theater costumes for four years and it was one of my passions.

David was hired as a sets designer, and we clicked the day we met. We worked closely until the project was complete. Not only as friends, but as partners in designing our projects. I could have easily fallen in love with him, but it was way too soon for me after Rick had died, and he understood that. I am sure he was in love with me. We agreed that we would remain as close friends, to allow the other to be there for the other in any/all venues possible. At first, I hesitated, but there was something that told me that I needed him and to remain close.

The job was finished in about eighth months and everyone went their separate ways. David and I promised to keep in touch. The rest of us remained in touch for a few months and slowly dwindled off, but David and I remained tight.

Even after I had gotten married and he found a girlfriend, our bond was still as strong as can be. There was noting that could tear us apart. There were years we hadn't seen each other as he'd moved to the bay area, but we always kept in touch, and were very much a part of each other.

David knew my deepest, darkest secrets. He knew everything good and everything bad about me. He knew things about me that I didn't even know. He knew just how to get under my skin. I don't think there was anything he didn't know. There were times that he would text and he somehow knew what I was thinking, how I was feeling. He was one of the very few people who could make me smile when I was in my deepest of tears. Even when I wasn't, he made me feel good about myself and encouraged me in everything I did. My writing, my business, my health issues, my quilting, everything that was important to me. He was a true friend, a confidant, a brother, and sometimes a lover. Not in the sexual sense, but he held me, kissed me, and cuddled me when I was feeling lonely. Something I would never expect from anyone else.

I wrote to him twice during his last day, or at least what I think was his last day. I am thinking, though that  he didn't see those two emails. I got an email from his girlfriend saying he was gone. That she had taken him to the hospital that morning and he had died later that morning. He should have gone to the hospital the night before as he was feeling chest pains, but he refused and went to bed. The next morning he could barely move, so she called an ambulance. They couldn't save him. He was gone. She emailed me at work with the news. There wasn't anything I could say to make things better except offer my support. She knows I'm here for her and always will be. She went up to Oregon to be with her mom, not sure if she'll ever be back again. Such a big loss for both of us  He will always be a part of our lives and hearts.

It amazes me how the births and deaths in my life happen at about the same time.  Last week, I had lost a very dear friend of mine, and yesterday, my third grandson was born. And today, although, I did not know her personally, Pentupfreedom announced the death of one of his dear friends, here on EP. It just feels like so much is happening with in our family all at once.   The last time a friend of had a baby, I had lost a very dear customer and friend on the very same day.  It just  all seems to happen on the same day or within days of each other. Then, there's a quiet spell between events again.  A friend of mine is having twins in a couple of months, makes me wonder, just who I'm going to lose when they are born, and am I losing two people, or just one? 

I just got a reminder that Mothers Day is next weekend. Mother's Day has always been a bit awkward for me in a number of ways.  Having been adopted, I have two mothers. My biological mother who had me when she was a teenager, and was far from ready to have any children. I met my adopted mother when I was three, and she took me to Hawaii with her and her new husband and gave me a new life in the islands. I was legally adopted when I was seven. Throughout the years, I had kept in touch with my biological family, which included phone calls, letters and summer visits.  When I was going through high school, I had a very difficult time with a number of things, including a very traumatic loss of my high school sweetheart. It made it very difficult for me to stay on the island, having to daily see the mountain side on which his life was taken. So, I was invited to come back to California and spend my senior year with my biological family.  During the senior year, I got to know my biological mother a bit better, and there were just some things I didn't like. Mostly the fact that I felt like I had to mother her. It just wasn't right. She was an alcoholic, and I wasn't comfortable with that.  I tried to live with my grandparents after graduation, and still it just wasn't right. Luckily, I had met my husband shortly thereafter, and we moved in together. I had the opportunity to meet his mother only once before she passed away of cancer. I so wished we had more time together.

At this point in my life, I have cut my ties to my biological family as much as I could. My mother is completely out, but I see my grandparents occasionally when they come to see me at work, but  I don't make the effort to see them. I can't it's too painful for me.  My adopted mother is still very much a part of my life and always will be. She has given me so much support and love over the years as though I was her own child, and that means the world to me. She will always be my mom.  

Unable to have my own children, I have a few "surrogates" who I love dearly as my own. Kids who needed a little extra guidance along the way, someone to talk to, someone to lean on. I don't always here from them on Mother's Day, but that's alright, they have their own mothers to visit and to call. Occasionally, they will remember to send me flowers or a card, or even just come and give me a hug. And that's what makes it all worthwhile.  Will I see any of them this year, who knows, but they are always in my heart, and they know that I love them. I will call my adopted mother and wish her a Happy Mother's Day, then I will go to Point Pinos, where my mother in law's ashes were spread and I will say hello to her, as I know she's with us in heart.

For all of you out there, I wish you a Happy Mothers Day, with love.

For many years, I have been suffering memory loss. Mainly my long term memories. I have a feeling it has something to do with the medications I've been on for my epilepsy. A lot of it was important stuff like meeting my husband or even the day we got married, or my sister's being born and growing up. You know, the stuff that you'd want to hang on to and hold in your heart. Over the last few years, I've been getting some of those memories back, with the help of family and friends. So, I have been diligently writing about what I remember, as I remember them. Some good, some  bad, some things I want to hold dear, some things I had hoped to completely forget.

The last week or so, as I work on different projects and get ready to do my taxes, I have come across many things that I thought I have done, but didn't. Okay, so I'm getting busy businesswise, but still, that's no excuse to not send of my sisters birthday card. As I thought more about it the last couple of days, I realized that my short term memories are now starting to go. I couldn't even remember what I had for dinner the night before. I remember one morning I woke up and couldn't remember my husband's name as he laid there next to me. I was working on a pattern last week, and I stood there for a while, not remembering just where to start. 

I must admit, it's beginning to scare me. I quietly cried all through the night last night, not sure I'm ready to tell my husband about this.  Of course, next time I see my neurologist, I'll discuss it if this continues. But for now, I sit here terrified of whats next.  I cannot control the tears that now fall. 

Every year, on March 26th, I, along with other epileptics in this world celebrate Purple Day, officially known as the Global Day of Epilepsy Awareness.  The day was founded in 2008 by a nine year old girl, Cassidy Megan of Nova Scotia, Canada with the help of their epilepsy association.  The international color is purple, or more specifically, lavendar, with is also associated with solitude or the feelings of isolation, when is how a lot of us with epilepsy and seizure disorders often feel.  Cassidy's goal in creating Purple Day was basically to let epileptics around the world that no, we are not alone. 

Personally, I have had epilepsy since I was ten years old. I remember sitting in class and suddenly I'd be feeling these awkward feelings of dizziness, lack of awareness, and the inability to communicate with the others around me. To me, it was very frightening. I would try to say something, but nothing would come out. It's almost like I had lost my voice suddenly.  I would just put my head down and cry.

There was very little awareness back then, and sometimes, I would be accused of faking something, just to get out of a test or out of the classroom.  Seconds later, I'd be fine, and I'd get yelled at for trying to pull something off. It was horrible.  The one thing that was most frustrating was that all the medical tests I had been through showed nothing, so doctors didn't know what to do, what to give me for medications.

Today, thank goodness, there is more awareness. And, even though things still don't make sense, at least we are being recognized and not shunned. Today's students don't have to go through the pain that I did, and still suffer from today.  I try to help spread the word as much as I can, and get all my friends involved with Purple Day every year. To wear something Purple to show their support and that they know that we are here.  The number of emails I got in return were phenomenal and very encouraging & supportive. The numbers of those wearing a purple shirt, a pin, or even just a ribbon to represent our cause grows every year. It is very heartwarming to have friends who want to help support us.

For more information about Purple Day, please visit www.purpleday.org, and be sure to mark next years calendars March 26th, Purple Day.

This winter has been a very dry one here in California. No rain, and worst of all very little snow, if any at all. Usually,, on Christmas day, I send my husband up to the mountains to go snowboarding. It's my one Christmas present to him. This year, he was stuck at home with me, due to no snow. I must admit, I was kind of at a loss on what to do, as I'm so used to having the house to myself on that day, with no worries, no company. I just wasn't used to him being at home. lol   So, now it is just about the middle of March, and we are finally expecting a week of rain. And, of course, it is now too warm for it to snow anywhere near by.  But, at least our forests will get a little bit of replenishment.  Hopefully, enough to keep the spring fires down to a low roar.  I am looking forward to being able to take a deep breath and smell the freshness of the rain and new growth around me.

Well, I got through yesterday, March 9th, without a hitch. I was busy at work, so there was no time for me to sit and reflect. Plus I had done so much of that on Thursday at the park, while I wrote my annual letter to Rick.  I think my heart had enough.  I emailed my friend who tried to commit suicide last year, and just told him that I was very happy he was still alive, and that I loved him very much and that I needed him. He wrote back and was very cheerful, reminding me that yesterday was his birthday, and he was a year old. I so love that he thinks of it that way. His new life is going well for him, and that makes me happy.  The only sad thing that happened yesterday was saying goodbye to my son, as he left for college last night. While I will miss him terribly, I am very proud of him and what he has become. Although he is just my "surrogate" son, someone I have just helped along the way when he needed it growing up, we have always had a very special relationship, and I will always love him as though he was my own.  Today, I woke up feeling good. Ready to start a new day. All I need is a bit more coffee, and I'll be set to go.

Although I try so hard to drown myself in my work, in my customers, and in other projects, I cannot control the dreams that come in to haunt me as I sleep. I try to forget as I wake up, but the tears continue to fall.  Damn it Rick, when are you going to leave me alone?!?!?!?  Is this going to go on forever? Year after year? Suddenly, I'm at a loss for words, full of confusion, anger, sadness and most of all...loneliness.  F*ck!!

As the dreaded day approaches, I can literally feel my heart getting heavier and heavier, and the tears won't stop. I'll be sitting here at my desk, concentrating on something else, and suddenly a solo tear will fall out of my left or right eye. No apparent reason or explanation, just a "hello, I'm here, you can't forget me."  Then suddenly, my thoughts go to what I know is coming.  This year, March 9 lands on a Friday, and I'm thinking about asking my husband to work for me that day. I know he would, but I don't know if I should, or if I should just come to work and tough it out. I know the busier I am, the better it will be. I don't want to just be sitting at home or in a part all day in tears. So, if I come to work at least I'll have something else to concentrate on.  I don't know, it just gets more and more frustrating as the day nears.

Yesterday, was one of those "off" days for me. It was a holiday weekend, so I was kind of expecting to see an increase in business, as the dive conditions were better than normal. But it was very slow, and I was less than motivated to get anything done. It was one of those day that I just wished I could have stayed in bed all day long and either read a book or just plain sleep.  I did have a couple of people come in to pick up their repairs, so that helped keep me going, along with playing on EP, of course.   The highlight of my day was a visit from my surrogate son. He is leaving in a couple of weeks for Denver to go to a technology college there. Finally, at the age of 27, he has figured out what he wants to do. It's been a rocky road for him, but it's nice to see him figure out just where he wants his life to go. He came in to use the computer for a little while and to fill out some forms needed for financial assistance. 

After Jason had left, I was thinking about his plans, and it hit me that the day he plans to leave is March 9th. Now, to most, it's just a day out of the calender, but to me, that date is my worst enemy. It has been since my high school sweetheart, Rick, was killed on that day when we were 16. Since then, it's been a day of mourning for me, and I seem to always have weird stuff happen to me on that particular day, every year. Whether it be big or small, it will always happen on March 9th. 

Last year at about this time, I was trying to talk a friend out of a suicide mission. He's a dear friend from school, and we had recently reunited through email. I had no idea where he was, as he wouldn't tell me. And he was less than specific about his plans. He was very depressed, as the love of his life had left him and taken their two children with her. Of course, he saw the kids occasionally, but it wasn't enough for him, and he was done. He didn't see any other reason for living. I tried my damnedest to keep him alive and thinking positively, but whatever I said or tried to do, it just didn't work.   Then, on March 9, I received a handwritten letter from him along with a gift. Something personal of his that he wanted me to have. The letter spelled out his plans, and on that day, the 9th, early in the morning he was going to say goodbye to the world.  I was devastated. Not only was I losing a dear friend, but I was also adding another nic to the calender on that date.

And, now, to have Jason leave on that day...Damn.  There's part of me that wants to ask him to choose another day to leave, but I can't make him change his plans just because of what that day does to me, it wouldn't be right, it wouldn't be fair.

Oh, I could ramble on, but I won't. I just needed to release some of my feelings.  If anyone cares to read this, I thank you.
Now off I go, back to work *sigh*

When things quiet down here in the office, enough for me to sit down and take a break, I have been going out to the front of the building to see what's going on. It's a holiday weekend, and people are at their absolute worst on the road. Trying to defy the lights at the intersections, parking in the CVS parking lot instead of the parking garage right next door, and frightening pedestrians as they try to cross the street. Now I'm here fire truck sirens. On Tuesday, all will be calm again, quiet, no horns honking, no  one screaming foul language.  It just makes me happy that I'm inside the building, where it's warm and no one can get at me, until a customer walks in.  Whew, *wipes forhead*.  I'm safe....for now anyway.